The End is the Beginning is the End
by Claire Starling
Summary: "Time and time again, the world had dealt her deadly blows and told her to stay down, but she had gotten back up and trudged forward. She would not give up now, not for Bill. Not for anyone." [ONE-SHOT] Sookie's last moments with Bill propel her in a slightly different direction than he may have expected.


**A/N: **This is my first foray into fanfiction in a long time. I honestly did not think that I would ever write again, but the last episode of _True Blood _had too much untapped potential. It was not a terrible way to end the series, as far as Sookie's storyline goes, but I found that everything in the last few minutes of the series to be far too rushed a conclusion with too neat of a bow (especially considering how messy the series has gotten before). So I undid their neat bow, mussed with the plot and characters a bit, and added an ending that had more of a _True Blood_ flair. I hope that you find this as enjoyable to read as I did to write, and that you feel that perhaps my rendition gives a truer, more satisfying end for our beloved characters.

**Spoilers: **For all of _True Blood,_ with the exception of the last few moments.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters or plotlines related to _True Blood _or _The Southern Vampire Mysteries_, they belong to their respective owners. I write for my own enjoyment (and hopefully yours) and make no profit from the following story. The story title comes from the Smashing Pumpkins song of the same name.

* * *

**THE END IS THE BEGINNING IS THE END**

_"When one door opens, another one closes; but we often look so long and regretfully at the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us." _

_-Alexander Graham Bell_

At this moment in time, all that existed for Sookie Stackhouse was her eyes and Bill's, and the unforgiving piece of wood in her hand. She knew she had the strength to press down; she had done it before when Bill was possessed by some-sort of vampire God. But now she was convinced that as long as she did not blink, as long as she did not sever the connection between herself and her first love, she would never have to do what Bill was asking her to do. God help her, but she could not stop herself from hating him for forcing her of all people to do this. She had already sacrificed so much for him, had nearly died for him on more than one occasion and suffered at his hands more than once all because she stupidly gave him her heart without considering the consequences.

But when his hands overlapped hers on the stake, everything paused and she understood. She understood him in a way that she had understood Godric as she accompanied him on his first sunset in over two thousand years. Although the virus had scared Bill at first, she realized now that for him it had been a blessing in disguise. Bill had never wanted to be a vampire. He had divorced himself from his humanity and cloaked himself in cruelty to please his maker, but even Lorena had commented on Bill's unending devotion to his humanity. Godric could not stay in this world no matter how great Eric's love for him was, and now it seemed that Bill could no longer tolerate this life no matter how much she loved him.

Sookie's eyes met his and she managed what she hoped passed for a smile before lacing her fingers with his. She had given him this much, she could give him his last wish. Unlike so many others, for the second time in his long life, Bill would not have to die alone. Something flickered through Bill's eyes and Sookie realized that she had managed to surprise him. He had not expected her approval, even if he had hoped for her participation. It seemed that surprising vampires before their True Death was a gift of hers that she never intended to give.

Slowly, he smiled back at her and she took a moment to remember his face, the smell of the earth, the taste of her tears, the strange unfamiliar and beautiful warmth of his body beneath hers and his alien thoughts echoing on and on in her head: _Thank you I love you Thank you I love you Thank you I love you—_

She registered the stake slipping between his ribs and heard the gruesome crunch of bone, but focused instead on how his brief gasp of pain was quickly erased by the look of peace that swept across his face moments before the world exploded in red.

It took a moment for it to register and another for a heart-wrenching wail to rip from her throat as the truth of the moment hit her. She cried and mourned for everything that she had given, everything that had been taken and stolen and _sacrificed_, for all the lies and promises and all the moments of suffering and joy that they had shared. But she could not lay down in this box with him, her pain was not over- she had chosen to live, time and time again, where so many others in her life had given up. Time and time again, the world had dealt her deadly blows and told her to _stay down_, but she had gotten back up and trudged forward. She would not give up now, not for Bill. Not for anyone.

Her legs shook as she stood in his remains, and she found herself looking down at the ancient picture of Bill and his daughter, covered in a sheen of blood. She wondered if he was reunited with her now, and she sincerely hoped he was. Slowly, she slid out of the coffin and pressed it shut, closing the door on a whole volume of her life that she could not regret or deny no matter how much it hurt.

She traced the cross and thought of his face one more time, from the first time she saw him to the last. She said a mental prayer for him and in response she felt a gentle peace fall over her, numbing the pain, and giving her the strength to stand and climb out of this hole in the earth where no living thing belongs.

As she grabbed hold of a root to hoist herself up, a hand was waiting for her instead.

"Eric," she whispered gratefully.

Her hand fit into his and he lifted her with ease up out of the dirt and into his arms.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, sounding more like she was answering her door than covered in blood.

"Bill," he answered simply, finally meeting her gaze. "He didn't think you should be alone." He paused. "No one should be alone."

Sookie gave Eric a watery smile. "Thank you. For being here."

"It's my pleasure, Sookie Stackhouse."

They both looked down into the grave and a moment of silence passed between them.

"I have to bury him," she said distantly.

"No," Jessica appeared beside them, remnants of blood tears smeared on her cheeks. Sookie wondered if Jessica had watched from the shadows, but she figured that Bill had asked her for privacy in the hopes of sparing his childe some pain. Unfortunately she knew that did not save Jessica from the fact that she had probably at least heard Bill's last moments and the heartbreak it had caused her.

"Please, let me. You've done enough."

The two women embraced, strengthening the bond between them.

"You're sure?" Sookie asked.

Jessica pulled away, unbothered by her maker's blood covering her in a gory tribute. "I'll be fine. Go."

The two stared at each other for a moment, grasping each other's elbows before Sookie nodded. "Come and see me when you're ready."

Jessica sniffed and tried to smile. "I will."

Eric stepped forward and offered his arm, "Allow me to take you home, Miss Stackhouse."

Sookie slid her arm through his, glad to have an excuse to lean on someone, grateful that she did not have to be strong tonight.

As they made their way down the path to her home, her head slowly came to rest on his arm. By the time they reached her porch steps, he had her cradled in his arms. Her hold on him tightened and he did not pause as he strode into her home and up her stairs.

He made his way into her bathroom and placed her down on the bathmat. After assuring she could stand on her own, he turned from her only to run her bathwater, testing the temperature before leaving it to fill.

Slowly, he knelt at her feet and took off one shoe, then the other. As he stood, he carefully gathered the hem of her ruined dress in his hands. She lifted her arms over her head like a child and he pulled off the gown and discarded it in the trash bin. Reverently, he removed her bra and helped her step out of her panties.

Offering her his hand once more, he helped steady her as she stepped into the tub and sank down into the hot water. Choosing a soothing lavender scent, Eric began to bathe Sookie with a gentleness he reserved only for her. As he massaged her scalp, she murmured words of gratitude, unsure if she would have been capable of performing any such function at the moment. Had it been left to her, she probably would have stood in her shower until the water ran ice cold and she still would not have noticed.

Much later, Sookie would realize that the Eric she met years ago in Fangtasia would have taken advantage of her vulnerability in moments if it meant that she would be his. But tonight, there was nothing sexual in the way Eric bathed her. It was almost reverent. She felt loved, cared for, as though he was trying to warm the numbness on the inside with the strokes of the sponge and wash away her pain.

She remembered the shower she had taken after she had finished cleaning the kitchen from when Gran was murdered, from when Tara was shot. It had seemed wrong to wash away the lifeblood of the people who had loved her, who had died in her place. Now, she felt no remorse. As she had once told Russell Edgington, a vampire was not their remains. Bill was gone. All that was left was her pink-tinged bathwater.

Eric had to drain the tub and refill it twice before he could smell only Sookie on her skin and he was satisfied she was clean. He gently lifted her from the tub and wrapped her in a towel he recalled fondly from his stay in the house. After helping her dry off, he took her in his arms again and brought her into her bedroom. She stood there and blinked, looking lost and confused as though she simply couldn't remember what came next. Sighing, Eric found comfortable pair of pajamas he recalled her wearing and dressed her for bed before tucking her in. He looked down at her and allowed himself to tenderly brush an errant hair from her cheek before he turned to leave.

"Wait."

In his mind, Eric realized that word would forever be associated with Sookie Stackhouse.

Turning back, she looked the most vulnerable he had ever seen her. "Would it be all right if you stayed here until sunrise?"

.

"_Would it be all right if I stayed here until sunrise?" he sniffed, rubbing his face in her lap and taking comfort in her scent._

"_As long as you promise to keep your hands and your fangs to yourself," she answered warily, but her hand continued its gentle caress of his back._

"_I promise."_

.

Eric smiled at her and replied, "My promise upholds."

A phlegmy laugh escaped Sookie's lips before she pulled back the blanket beside her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Eric removed his jacket and shoes before climbing in beside her. Unlike last time, Sookie pressed her face into his chest and tugged him flush against her, breathing in his scent. Her breath shuttered out, but she did not cry.

"There's only one Sookie Stackhouse now," she whispered against his shirt.

Eric pulled away slightly to look down at her questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"I've come to grips with it. With myself. I _am_ more than human. I could have given it away… my light," she explained. "But I would have been giving away myself. And I am better than that." Her hand came to rest on his chest, somewhere over where his heart once beat a thousand years ago. "You were the first one who told me that, the _only _one who supported 'faerie Sookie.' I never thanked you for that." A smile tugged at her lips. "Of course, the way you told me could have used some work."

"If I recall correctly, it was you who was being saucy that evening," he grinned, running his fingers along her jawline.

"I also recall someone walking in on me without an invitation," she retorted.

"It was my house," he replied with ease.

"It's my home," she declared, her tone turning serious.

"Yes, it is," he agreed. "And always will be."

Sookie leaned up and brushed a kiss along Eric's cheekbone. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

When she pulled away and their eyes met, there was a moment where both of them realized how easy it would be to take comfort in each other, how natural making love would be to both of them at this moment. Instead, Eric merely placed a reverent kiss on Sookie's forehead, nuzzling gently at her hairline.

With Eric singing ancient lullabies in her ear and stroking her hair, Sookie soon fell into a deep slumber.

…

When she woke up the following morning, she felt stronger and able to take on the day. She lingered in bed surrounded by Eric's scent and allowed the memories of his presence yesterday to soothe her before she got up. After making her bed, she took a moment to stare out her window at the view of the cemetery. Her chest ached and her eyes misted, but she knew that Bill was happy and at peace. He had made his choice, now it was her turn to make hers.

When Sookie stepped hesitantly into her bathroom to get ready for the day, she was surprised to find that Eric had disposed of her funeral clothing and scrubbed the tub clean. There were no reminders of her old life to haunt her new beginning. After taking care of her human needs, Sookie wandered down to the cubby in the hopes of thanking Eric again for his consideration, but he was not there. He must have left after cleaning her house and before the sun came up. Smiling sadly, Sookie closed the doors to the cubby. Gently caressing them, she wondered if the space would ever be lived in again or if she would end up using it as storage like Alcide had during his brief time in her life.

Slowly returning to her room to begin her day, Sookie saw that hung neatly on the outside of her armoire was the famous white dress. She must have missed it when she woke up. Gently she stroked the material, remembering the girl that had put it on and tracking the progress to the woman who stood before it now. She understood that this was Eric's way of saying he was going to leave her be, to let her become some semblance of who she once was. She had a blank slate in front of her. It was not quite a restart, but she was finally being given the chance to make her own informed choices about her life.

Smiling softly, she looked outside. It was going to be a warm sunny day. Her favorite kind. With a nod, Sookie prepared to lie outside and soak in the sun.

* * *

**FOUR YEARS LATER**

Eric Northman was a very fortuitous vampire. Four years ago, he had been near death from Hep V and ready to accept the True Death. Lucky for him, his progeny was a stubborn bitch and reminded him of the important things in life. Like revenge. Now, he could honestly say that everyone who had ever wronged him in his long life had been killed. Russell Edgington had died by his hands for murdering his human family. He held Steve Newlin in the sun for his part in Godric's suicide and his sister's poisoning. Governor Truman Burell had been ripped limb from limb (if only he had the chance to take part in that piece of slaughter). The Yakuza Empire had been dismantled and he now owned all the rights to their properties and estates_._ Even Sarah Newlin was being tortured for her slights against him, an act that gave his progeny much joy. Every person who had ever wronged Eric Northman or his brood had been sufficiently disposed of.

He was CEO of one of the most powerful companies in the world and had more money than he could spend in even his lifetime (although Pamela was trying her damnedest to bankrupt them). He had the King of Louisiana under his thumb and the new Vampire Authority had practically given him political immunity because of his "discovery" of _New Blood_. For all intents and purposes, he should have been thrilled.

Instead, Eric was… bored.

Finally Eric began to understand how Godric came to be on the roof in Dallas. There was no mystery anymore. Humans were beyond predictable and repetitive at this point in his life. The rats that infested his bar sometimes proved entertaining, but he found himself eating and fucking the food less and less. He could tell Pamela was worried and he tried to regain his former enthusiasm for her but it was proving to be more and more difficult. He vowed to himself that no matter how bad it got, he would not abandon her again until he was sure she was settled.

After seeing the way she changed when she had a childe of her own, he only wished that he had been able to prolong the happiness that Tara had brought so briefly into Pam's life as she experienced what may have been the first shades of romantic love and affection since their relationship ascended to a true Maker and Childe bond. He did not know if Pamela would find her match in a human or a vampire partner, but he would wait until she was happy once more before he made any decisions about leaving.

He noticed that Jessica was spending time with Pamela again, and with her came Willa. He suspected that the redhead came around sometimes to purposely force Willa to interact with Pam and him, and he was grateful each time she did. He suspected that Willa would forgive him for his gross betrayal within the next fifty years or so.

Additionally, Jessica fed him tiny drops of information about the life and times of Bon Temps. He stuck to his promise to himself to stay out of Sookie's life, and he never pried into her personal affairs. He only took the little pieces that Jessica offered him every now and again, vague references to her health and prosperity.

He admitted to himself that every once and a while, he had tried to prompt her return into his life. He knew he managed to infuriate both Sookie and Pam when he gifted her with twenty-five percent of the stock of _New Blood_. He honestly wondered which blonde was angrier with him. Pamela had ranted for nearly a month about how one percent would have allowed Sookie to buy all of the drab Walmart clothing she could ever desire, but he had finally silenced her on the matter when he flew her to have Elie Saab design her a custom gown before sending her to Paris Fashion Week.

However, he had been surprised that Sookie had never stomped into Fangtasia to yell at him for his high handedness. Instead, all he had received was a handwritten note in the mail. It was plain, sturdy card stock with "_You're a big a-hole" _written across it in Sharpie. It tickled him that after everything, Sookie would not even write down a swear word. On the back though, she had written: "_Love, Sookie."_ He had traced the words so many times the ink had begun to wear off. He ended up keeping it tucked into his office copy of _Poetic Edda,_ marking the page for the prose piece, "Helgakviða Hjörvarðssonar" lest some undesirable stumble upon it.

He knew from Jessica and the papers that Sookie regularly donated large portions of her fortune to various charities, earning herself public recognition for her generosity and spirit. She had become the new patron of Bon Temps, singlehandedly paying for the majority of the reconstruction of the town after the damage it had suffered from the Hep V vampires and from the Maenad before that. She had even helped establish some new businesses and rebuild old and rundown estates. He now understood that she was the proud owner of the Bon Temp's brand new Bed and Breakfast, fondly known as _Adele's_, with rooms that catered to supes as well as humans. The first of its kind and, according to _Yelp_, it was popular amongst all kinds.

Her romantic life, however, remained a mystery to him. He was sure that in four years, she had managed to find another partner. After all, she was a beautiful rich woman, and her faerie light made her even more desirable, even if humans did not know it. Sometimes he would wonder if she had a family. He knew Bill greatly desired for Sookie to experience motherhood, and had listed it as one of his main reasons for choosing the True Death. Eric had attempted to picture Sookie pregnant, but the image eluded him. Although he knew her to be nurturing, he strongly favored the faerie side of Sookie that was too sassy and independent to bear children.

One morning though, he found himself imagining coming back from battle to his human home to see Sookie, dressed in the clothing of his people, and swollen with his child. He blamed the vision on going too long without feeding, but the feeling of their hands pressed together over her womb haunted him.

He kept the dream to himself, but Pam could tell something had bothered him because she nagged him about looking too vacant on the throne. Apparently, one can appear _too_ detached and it drove the masses away. It amazed him that Pam cared at all as to how well the business was doing at Fangtasia, considering the sum she made off of Sarah Newlin belonged to her alone, but his progeny was always economical.

Tonight was proving to be the same as any other night and he was struggling to keep his face the correct balance of bored and aloof. But at this point in the evening, he could not promise that he would not get violent if anyone approached him uninvited. He was just contemplating lashing out at a human that was edging too close to the foot of his throne when a flash of white caught his gaze.

In a sea of black and red, Sookie Stackhouse managed to stand out like a sore thumb. He froze in his seat as he drank in his first glimpse of her in almost five years. She was wearing the same white dress with the little red flowers that she had been wearing when he first met her, but everything else was different. Her hair was longer, lighter, and in a thick braid that hung to one side of her neck, leaving the other bare to his gaze. He followed the curve of her skin, sun kissed and stark against the bright white of her dress. He inhaled deeply and was able to smell the sun on her over the filth of the crowd. Her feet were in bright red kitten heels that he was sure would have Pam's eyebrows touching her hairline as he was nearly positive they were Prada. The faery light practically pulsed underneath her skin, stronger than when he had seen her last. Finally his eyes met hers, dark and smoky and positively dancing with deviant intent. He was shocked to see that she didn't appear to have aged at all since he had seen her last, although she had filled back out into the size she had been when they first met as opposed to the near skeletal frame that stress had reduced her to when he left.

As she walked through the club, the crowd seemed to part for her. A vampire or two attempted to approach her, but she ignored them as though they did not even exist to her. He found himself sitting up straight in his chair and swallowing hard as she came to a stop at the steps before him.

Sookie curtsied mockingly, her eyes twinkling up at him with barely contained mirth before she spoke. "May I approach the throne?"

He had to swallow again before he managed to gesture to the seat at his side. "Sit, please."

Unassisted and without breaking his gaze, Sookie stepped up to the throne and settled comfortably in the chair beside him as though she were meant to be there. She crossed her legs and his eyes followed their movements. When they flickered back to her face, her lips were curving into a smile but she said nothing.

"Good evening, Miss Stackhouse," he crooned, feeling more like his normal self.

He wondered how they must look to the room, him draped in black and leather and her in white and cotton. He must look like Hades welcoming Persephone home after a long summer.

"Good evening, Mr. Northman," she replied. "It has been a while."

"It has," he agreed, licking his bottom lip. This time it was her eyes that followed his movements and he allowed himself to smirk.

But instead of becoming flustered, Sookie merely cocked an eyebrow at him and leaned forward, resting her hand on his arm.

"I have a proposal for you," she said, upping the ante and whetting his curiosity. He was practically drooling.

He leaned into her, calling her silent bluff but this new version of Sookie was confident in herself and her sexuality. He loved it.

"I'm listening."

She grinned and ran her tongue along the back of her teeth. For the first time, he saw that her eyeteeth had become slightly pointier like her faerie kin. They glinted at him in the darkness as she spoke the words he had been waiting to hear.

"I came to ask you to be mine."

**FIN.**


End file.
